


that's the story of our own corpse groom

by terrierlee



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Corpse Bride AU, M/M, ft. douchey chad, some character death, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-10-04 18:05:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17309321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/terrierlee/pseuds/terrierlee
Summary: “Yuri!” Victor exclaimed, not expecting to see the blond.“Yeah yeah, I’m here for a wedding, so hurry up. Katsudon here wouldn’t stop talking about you downstairs.”There was a pause. Victor and Yuuri both going bright red in the face.“Ugh, I meant in the Land of the Dead, you perverts!”--A Corpse Bride AU





	that's the story of our own corpse groom

**Author's Note:**

> Originally supposed to be written closer to Halloween HOWEVER, you know, life.
> 
> I know there's already fics of this AU, but I wanted to do my own spin of it. I hope you guys enjoy!

Today was the day.

Yuuri patted down his hair, the stubborn strays refusing to stay down and instead giving him the worst appearance of bedhead. What a way to meet his fiancé.

_Fiancé._

Just the word alone had his stomach churning.

Never in his wildest dreams, and he could bet his beloved late poodle on just how wild they were, that he would be the one marrying Victor Nikiforov. Local heartthrob and ward of the Feltsman Estate. And to think, he would be marrying Yuuri. Plain old unassuming Katsuki Yuuri, the son of an innkeeper.

A knock on the bedroom door alerted him before it opened, Yuuko poking her head through.

“Yuuri-kun! Your parents are asking for you.”

He nodded, letting his fingers run through his hair, “Right. One moment.” Yuuri stepped away from the mirror, it wasn’t like his hair could look any worse, and slipped on his jacket. He faced the door, hands smoothing out any wrinkles on his coat. “You’ll be alright here?”

Yuuko waved a hand, gesturing him closer almost immediately, “Takeshi-kun is here. You need to focus more on your rehearsal for the big day tomorrow!” A smile slowly grew on her face, “So. Victor Nikiforov?”

Yuuri dipped his head, a flush heavy on his cheeks, “Yeah, I know. I can’t believe he even agreed to it either.”

They started down the hall leading to the main entryway. Yuuko clasped her hands behind her back, “No! That after all these years of hero worship, you get to marry your idol!” She sighed, “A dream come true. Anyone would wish to be in your shoes.”

“Even you, Yuu-chan?”

“I’m quite content with Takeshi-kun, thank you very much.”

They shared a laugh as they entered the entryway, the rest of the Katsuki family already in their shoes.

“Yuuri!” Hiroko beamed as she folded her hands in glee, “We’re so glad you’re here.” She moved to the door, exiting it as Toshiya held it open. “I’m so eager to meet our in-laws.”

The smile on Yuuri’s face vanished as soon as it came, as the churning from earlier returned to his stomach.

Right. The rehearsal for his wedding.

Young Minami sat at the seat of the carriage, the reins for the horse held tightly in his hands. He perked up as the Katsuki family began their trek into the carriage.

Mari settled beside Yuuri, across from their parents. Her fingers twitched, but made no move to take out her cigarette holder. Instead she folded her hands on her lap, keeping her attention out the window. Old Seung-gil Lee was peering out his own window in his decrepit house, partially hid by the curtains. His one good eye bearing holes into their carriage. Mari held down a shiver, shifting her focus elsewhere, it was better not to think about the old man.

The ride was short, Minami’s excited commands to the horse the only sound mixed along with the canter of the wheels and horse hooves.

It felt like hours before the carriage came to a stop, and the door opened. Outside, the largest mansion in the whole village towered above them.

The Feltsman Estate. Home to the Feltsman family for the last five generations.

Yuuri was going to throw up.

* * *

Victor Nikiforov was not nervous.

From a young age, he was strictly instructed how to act, that even the most miniscule fault would be blown out of proportion. He was also told, very early on, once he was adopted into the Feltsman Estate, that more likely than not, he would be married off to ensure they kept the house, as well as their title.

Something, blah blah blah, importance of upholding appearances, or whatever.

Victor found he cared very little much about what others said about him. The only one he truly cared about, really, was his standard poodle Makkachin. It was the one thing his foster parents allowed him to really own, Lady Lilia agreed, citing something she read about how pets made one more responsible. As if he hadn’t learned about that without Makkachin’s help.

A small commotion alerted his attention towards the door. His future spouse, as well as his family, must have arrived and were being escorted to the east dining room.

He resisted the urge to run his fingers through his hair, a tic he developed during his childhood but, due to his upbringing, scolded every time he did it. Instead he balled up his fists, taking a deep breath before rising to his feet.

Alright, he was a tad nervous.

It wasn’t like Victor had much of a social life growing up. Homeschooling took much of his time, as well as learning proper manners befitting a lord.

A whine besides the door forced his attention away from his thoughts, as Makkachin pawed at the floor.

“Oh, Makkachin, no.” Victor reached forward, already visualizing the berating he would get once his parents saw the scruff marks on the floor. “No, stop it, girl—“

As he neared the door and his dog, music notes fluttered through the gap. They were soft, but strong, filling up his body with an emotion he couldn’t quite put a finger on. Before Victor realized it, he was down the hall, Makkachin close on his heels.

He paused right on the top of the stairway, his eyes seeking out the grand piano in the corner of the room, at the person who was clearly having the time of their life.

With a start, Victor realized that person, the one making divine music on the piano, was his fiancé. The nervous energy in his stomach erupted to butterfly status, his stomach twisting as he hungrily took in how his future spouse looked.

No more than a few years younger than him, with hair as dark as the night sky, and the most adorable set of blue frame glasses that reminded him of—

Of—

The music abruptly cut off with a clang and a series of barks, jostling Victor out of his reverie.

Victor blinked but the image before him remained the same.

Makkachin had continued down the stairs without him, knocking the younger man to the ground and assaulting his face with his tongue.

“Makkachin!”

Taking two stairs at a time, Victor reached them in no time, pulling the poodle off the other man, holding onto her collar tightly.

“I’m so sorry! She’s never acted this way before!”

“It… It’s quite alright.”

His future spouse—Yuuri, he recalled being told—got to his feet, brushing off any dog hair that clung to his coat. He reached forward, giving the poodle a quick pat on the head.

“She’s beautiful.”

“Yes,” Victor heard himself say. “When she’s not jumping on people.”

A smile bloomed on Yuuri’s face, evolving into a hearty laugh that once again made something rise in Victor’s chest. He liked Yuuri’s laugh. He liked it a lot.

And just like that, the smile vanished. Yuuri’s face paled as he took in the man before him.

“Mr. Nikiforov—I’m deeply sorry—“

Victor shook his head, Makkachin panting beside him as she rubbed up against his leg. “Perhaps, in light of the circumstances… You could call me Victor?”

“I…” Yuuri visibly flounder, his hands wringing the hideous blue tie he wore, “Yes. Yes, of course. And I’m—”

“Yuuri.” Victor finished, a soft smile on his lips. He gestured at the antique piano, “You play beautifully.”

“Ah,” Yuuri rubbed his right wrist, his flush from earlier darkening, “It’s nothing, really.” His eyes darted around, fliting back and forth before coming to a stop on Victor. “It’s merely something to do to pass the time.”

“A hobby?” Kneeling down, Victor took one end of the overturned bench, inwardly pleased as Yuuri did the same on the other end, and righted the bench back in its place. He took a seat, patting the space next to him.

Yuuri hovered, his fingers clenching by his thighs before jerkily taking the spot beside Victor. “Not so much as—it’s really—sometimes I need to occupy my hands.” His fingers gripped his pant legs, “Mari—that is, my sister—she was taking piano lessons and I would sit in the room and watch her. My parents took notice and soon I had lessons myself.”

“That’s so interesting!” Victor clasped his hands upon his lap, back poised and legs crossed at the ankle. “Did you win any music competitions? Surely you must.”

Shaking his head, Yuuri’s fingers dug deeper into his legs, “Nothing big. I choked most of the time.”

“Oh.” Victor loosened his fingers, instead lifting up a hand and tapping his index finger against his lips, “Well, once we’re married, we can play together? Without an audience, if you prefer? I’m a pro at the violin.”

“I know.”

Victor blinked at the heat behind the words. At how Yuuri bit his lower lip and refused to make contact. It was a stark difference, to have the man he was about to wed be so jittery next to him when only a year ago…

Taking a deep breath, Victor forced his thoughts towards the present.

“Yes, of course you know.” He let out a chuckle that he didn’t feel, “How silly of me.”

Like a switch, Yuuri twisted so they were facing each other properly, his hands taking Victor’s own, his eyes bright as they reflected the lights from the chandelier.

“You’re not silly at all. You’re beautiful!”

“I—“

“What is this?!”

Lady Lilia’s voice echoed throughout the room, filling up every crevice. The force of her voice broke the two apart, but didn’t stop the racing of Victor’s heart.

“We’re late to the rehearsal! Madam Okukawa will not be pleased!”

* * *

“Once more! From the top!”

Yuuri winced, beads of sweat rolling down his back. To his right, Victor stood rim rod straight, his own candle already lit, waiting for the rest of the rehearsal to proceed. He glanced behind them, but it only made his anxiety worse. Lord Yakov had his attention on his pocket watch while Lady Lilia seemed to stare trenches into his skull. On the other side of the room, his parents and sister were less intense, but it still didn’t help his nerves.

Madam Okukawa clapped her hands, forcing his thoughts back to the front. “Again!”

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri leaned forward to light his candle on the bigger one on the table before them.

The wick didn’t light.

Brows furrowed, Yuuri tried again.

After two more failed tries, the wick finally caught fire, and Yuuri let out a sigh of relief.

And promptly blew out the candle.

Groans filled the room behind him and Yuuri felt his face grow warm. Victor shifted into his line of vision, using his own candle to light Yuuri’s again before getting back in position.

Minako rubbed her bow. “Let’s… continue.”

Yuuri opened his mouth, his right hand raised. Victor’s left hand easily slipped into his.

“With this hand—“

The doorbell rang.

Minako’s eye twitched, but she said nothing.

Yakov’s gruff voice rose through the silence, “Mila, the door.”

“Let’s just get through this.” Minako gripped her staff tighter, muttering under her breathe, “I need a stiff one after this is over.”

The doors to the dining room opened, butler showing in an older gentlemen with grey streaks in his hair and the biggest case of muttonchops Yuuri had ever seen. His suit was bursting at the belly, and in his right hand was a studded cane with the head of a hound. The butler, a red haired woman, slipped a card to Yakov.

“A Lord Chadwick Chaddington Chadsworth.”

The man came to a stop just before Yakov, “I haven’t a head for dates. Apparently I’m a day early for the ceremony.”

“Of course,” Lady Lilia gestured for an additional chair.

Once their new arrival was seated, Minako tapped her staff, “Once more, please.”

Victor tightened his hold on Yuuri’s hand, and it was only then that he realized they had been holding hands since the newcomer showed up. He snuck a peek and found Victor doing the same.

Just knowing he wasn’t completely alone, that Victor was next to him going through the same thing, made the whole ordeal that much easier on his nerves.

Yuuri returned the squeeze, not caring at all that his hand might be sweating.

“With this hand, I will light your way through darkness, with this candle I will be your wine—“

“Wrong!”

Pain erupted on top of his head, and it took longer than it should have for Yuuri to realize Minako had smacked his head with her staff. The candle he held fell to the ground as his freed hand went to his sore head. “M-Minako-sensei!”

“Are these vows not simple enough to remember? Mr. Nikiforov has managed to say them quite perfectly.” Minako seemed to grow in height, towering over the table and subsequently the future couple. “Do you not wish to be married?!”

“No!” Yuuri jerked his right hand free, holding up both in defense at the sudden turn of events.

Beside him, Victor gripped his candle tighter, “You… do not want to be married?”

“No!” Turning so he was facing his future spouse, Yuuri tried in vain to retrace his thoughts. “No, I—I do very much—that is—I mean no as in no yes I do—um—“

Minako clapped her hands again, “Pay attention!”

A disaster, Yuuri thought, as he turned once more to face the priestess. There was no way this day could get any worse.

He opened his mouth once more, the words on his tongue when a scream broke through the room.

“FIRE!!!”

Everyone turned, finding the curtains alight with flame as the lone candle Yuuri had earlier lay innocent on the floor by the window.

The room dissolved into chaos, Lord and Lady Feltsman calling out orders to their staff, Makkachin barking in the corner, and the Katsukis watching in awe as the fire slowly crept up the curtain.

A clump of dirt appeared, soaring through the air and extinguishing the fire before it got any worse. All eyes turned on the newcomer, who placed a vase back on its shelf.

Minako ran forward, her staff clicking against the tile. “Enough!” She singled out Yuuri, coming in close until he gulped nervously, “Until you have learned your vows, this wedding will not take place.”

Yuuri backed up until he was pressed up against the door. From behind Minako, the stares from his family and future in-laws bore into him. The only one he refused to look at, for fear of seeing distain on his face, was Victor. He felt around the door, grasping the knob before pulling the door open and fleeing out of the room.

Anywhere was better than there.

* * *

Yuuri lied. He was a big liar mcliarson.

Skeletons crowded the area, a few still had pieces of flesh on them while others were completely exposed and Yuuri found himself wondering how they were able to stay attached with no ligaments keeping them together.

He shook his head at the thought. Now wasn’t the time for weird ponderings!

Someone plopped onto the chair beside him, a gold ring shining on their bony finger.

With a start, Yuuri jumped out of his seat, fists raised as he backed away from the counter.

After the failed wedding rehearsal, Yuuri had taken off into the nearby forest. He went over his vows multiple times, until he finally, finally, managed to say them without breaking a stride. The one thing that got him through it was the thought of Victor, and his smile, and the fact that by the following day they would be married.

Except once he completed the last bit, and placed the ring meant for Victor on a random stick did things start to get strange. The wind shifted, forcing all the nearby crows to take to the air, blinding him as the stick he was near grabbed his wrist.

And then they appeared. Rising from the ground was a corpse dressed in a dulled white tux, sequins decorating the jacket into intricate designs. A half veil hid a portion of their face, and as they raised it, Yuuri found himself letting out a scream before all went dark.

When he awoke, he was in a bright and colorful bar, with enough skeletons to fill up a cemetery. And the said corpse from earlier was watching him now, a small smile on his face.

“You’re finally up, that’s good.”

“W-where—“ Yuuri lowered his fists, but his breathing didn’t lessen, “Where am I? Who are you people? What’s going on?”

The corpse rose from their seat, but didn’t make a move closer to Yuuri, “Well—“

A hand cupped his butt, and Yuuri let out a shriek, turning and finding another corpse with a tuft of blond hair on his skull. A piece of his cheek was missing, exposing his jawline and lower teeth. The second corpse removed his hand, raising up both in a mock defeat, “Woah, guy, calm down there.” He switched his attention to the tuxedo corpse, “Phichit, this is a mighty good find you got here.”

Yuuri slowly inched away when ‘Phichit’ moved forward, taking hold of Yuuri’s arm, “Leave him alone, Christophe.”

‘Christophe’ merely backed off, resting his arms behind him on the bar counter.

“Don’t mind him,” Phichit leaned in close, his lips barely touching Yuuri’s ear, “Chris gets a little touchy feely with fresh meat around.”

“I can hear you!”

Yuuri frowned, trying in vain to get his arm free but to no avail. Something about that name sounded familiar… “Christophe… Giacometti?”

The deceased simply preened, lifting his head high. “The one and the same! Do they still talk about me upstairs?”

“They uh…” Yuuri flushed red, “They said it was a unique way to die.” His face burned brightly once he realized he was staring at the gaping hole in Chris’ face. “And um…”

Chris let out a laugh, waving a hand to starve off all more embarrassment Yuuri’s way, “Don’t mind the details. I bet they exaggerated certain things while keeping other bits in the dark.” His laugh abruptly stopped, and he lowered his eyes, “Man, upstairs was a boring place.”

“Yes, well,” Phichit tightened his grip, “We don’t try to talk about the upstairs here, but!!” He turned to look at the man next to him. “I have so much to show you here!” They began to move towards the exit, other skeletons quickly getting out of their way. “I’ll answer all your questions! I can show you my hamsters! And then once we find a quiet place we can talk about our future!”

Yuuri froze, before shaking his arm free, “Woah. Wait.”

Phichit let his hand fall to his side, his head tilted in earnest.

“Future?”

“Yes.” Phichit nodded, his half veil falling into place over his eye. He quickly pushed it back. “You said your vows to me, back in the woods. We’re officially married now.”

Yuuri shook his head, “There must be some kind of mistake.”

They had stopped just at the exit, and Yuuri could feel everyone staring at him. Judging him.

“Let’s get out of here.”

The comment was quiet, and Yuuri was sure he misheard when Phichit opened the door before them, not making a move to take his arm again, but instead going through the entrance, holding the door open so Yuuri could follow.

They made their way through the streets until they stopped at a cliff overseeing the town, both of them taking a seat on the only bench in the area.

“So…”

Yuuri leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he covered his face. “I… I feel like this is all wrong. Those vows—“

“They were perfect.”

Slowly lifting his head, Yuuri turned to look at the man beside him. “They were?”

Phichit nodded. He had his head tilted so he was looking up, and Yuuri felt a twinge in his chest.

“When I was alive…”

The words flowed from Phichit’s mouth, about how he fell in love with a man not in his social circle, that despite his parents’ wishes, they agreed to court one another, and soon they would be married. But on the night they were to meet without their parents’ knowing, Phichit stayed out late, in hopes that he would see the one he loved before the night was done.

Instead, the night wore on as the temperature continued to drop, and young Phichit, not anticipating staying out so late, eventually froze to death.

“That’s terrible.”

The words left Yuuri’s mouth unbidden and in realization he clasped his hands over his mouth.  “I’m so sorry.” He mumbled against his fingers.

Phichit once more shook his head, a smile bright on his face, “Even though I don’t know what happened, I know there has to be a reason why he never showed.” He scooted closer, but still remained some distance between them. “But if that never happened to me, we would have never met. And I’m so glad we did.”

“Phichit-kun…”

“Now!” Phichit reached below the bench, as if he knew they would end up there, and sat back up with a box in his lap. “This is for you! A wedding present!”

“You didn’t have to…” Yuuri protested weakly as the box was pushed into his hands. He gave it a little shake before lifting the lid.

Bones. It was a box full of bones.

“Oh. Um.”

The box started to shake and Yuuri dropped it, the bones scattering on the ground in front of them. They took form, the miniature animal waving its tail as it held up a collar in its mouth.

Yuuri took the collar, holding up the tag before letting out a gasp.

“V-Vicchan?”

The miniature poodle barked, his tail waving even faster as Yuuri lifted him into his lap.

“Oh Vicchan, I’ve missed you…”

“I’m glad.”

Yuuri nearly let out another shriek. He had forgotten that Phichit was next to him. The other man had reached over, giving Vicchan a pat on his head as Yuuri held the dog skeleton close.

“Do you… like dogs?”

“Hamsters mostly.” Phichit’s hand came to a rest on Vicchan’s head. “I don’t know what happened to mine. I left them at home that night, thinking I’d be back the next day…”

Vicchan wiggled his body until Yuuri loosened his grip on him, and once he could, jumped into Phichit’s lap. He curled up into a tight ball, and Phichit let out a laugh.

“He’s sweet.”

“We…” Yuuri coughed into his hand, “We could go and find your hamsters? See how they’re doing?”

Phichit wrinkled his nose, the skin pinching tight in between his eyes. “What year is it?”

“1890.”

“Thirty years!” Phichit exclaimed. “My hamsters are long dead by now.” His lips twisted in a scowl, “They’re probably running around somewhere. Getting into mischief.”

“Wait.” Yuuri held up a hand, “You’ve been dead for thirty years???”

“Looks about right.” Phichit kept his head lowered as he rubbed Vicchan’s head. “I wonder if Leroy ever married Miss Yang…”

“Don’t you guys know how long time passes down here?”

Phichit simply shrugged, “We only judge time when there’s a new arrival. Before you showed up—“

“I’m not dead!”

“—Before you showed up, this Altin guy came down. Hit by lightning! Forever, his hair will look like that.”

“Look, Phichit-kun,” Yuuri shifted so he was facing the other man, “I’m really sorry, that happened to you—“

“Oh,” Phichit waved a free hand, “It’s fine. Thirty years’ worth of fine. Water under the bridge.”

A frown settled on Yuuri’s face. “Don’t you wonder… I mean, didn’t you ever want to see what happened? To that guy? Or your parents? Surely they were worried about you?”

“I…” Phichit shared his own frown, “There were a lot of us, you know. Besides,” he shrugged, “as you said, it’s been thirty years. A bit too late to show up and go ‘Hi Mom! Remember me? Here’s my husband, Yuuri!’”

Yuuri pursed his lips together. Phichit’s relatives were out of the question. However…

“What about my parents?”

Phichit peeked from under his veil.

Yuuri nodded, “You could meet my parents, then! And my sister! They’re bound to like anyone I m-married.”

Phichit straightened in his seat, a grin bright on his face, “You’re right!” He took in the area around them, “Where are they buried?”

“Uh,” Yuuri didn’t even mask his wince, “My parents aren’t dead.”

“Oh. Well that is a problem.”

* * *

It had been hours since the failed wedding rehearsal. Victor had long since retired to his room, unable to look anyone else in the eye. He could still feel the stare of that newcomer burning into his back. Victor gave a small shudder, even though he was by the fire, and Makkachin was curled up beside him.

It had to be a lie, Yuuri running off into the night with a mystery person. The town crier had to be wrong.

His fingers fidgeted against his violin, the spare strings on the table before him. It had been a while since he had properly restrung his violin, and he wanted to make sure it was ready if—when he and Yuuri played together.

So engrossed was Victor that he didn’t notice Makkachin perking up from her location on the couch. She jumped down, leaving Victor’s thigh exposed to the chilly weather. He lowered his violin to his lap, a sigh heavy on his lips.

Something tapped the glass in his window, and even before he turned to see, Makkachin started barking in earnest.

“Makkachin, wha—“

Victor laid his violin on the couch, rising to his feet in order to shush his dog when he caught sight of just who was on the other side of his window.

“Yuuri—“

He ran forward, unlocking the latch and open the window enough for Yuuri to come inside. Makkachin ceased her barking, instead rubbing up against Yuuri’s leg.

“Victor—I need to talk to you.”

“Yes, of course, anything.” Victor grasped his hand, tugging him closer to the fire. “Come, get warm by the fire. You’re so cold.” Yuuri sat on a stool while Victor returned to his seat on the couch, “What happened? Your hair’s in disarray.” He raised a hand to touch, but Yuuri just shook his head.

“Victor, I need—I need to talk first.”

He received a nod in return.

Yuuri took a deep breath, “This morning, I was terrified—not of you—of our situation. I mean,” he chuckled darkly as he pressed a hand against his face, “me? Marrying Victor Nikiforov? But—“ He dropped his hand, taking this moment to reach forward and take Victor’s free hand and holding them in between them. “But now, I don’t care. I want to marry you, Victor. I want to be with you always.”

Victor eyes were lowered, focused on their conjoined hands when he finally looked up, his eyes wide and cheeks a light pink that stood out against the light from the fire.

“Yuuri…” His voice came out breathless, “I feel the same.”

Slowly his shut his eyes, leaning forward when suddenly Yuuri’s ice cold hands left his own and held his sides of his face instead. His eyes shot open at the abrupt change, finding Yuuri’s face deathly pale and his eyes darting to the window behind him and his face.

“Victor—“ Yuuri’s voice was tight in his throat, “I—I seem to have found myself married.”

“Married?!”

The windows suddenly burst open, and Yuuri winced at the blast of cold air from outside. His hands left Victor’s cheeks, the tingle of his cold fingers still lingering as Victor turned to see a corpse in a frayed tuxedo standing in his room.

“Yuuri, you were taking too long.” The corpse brushed the half veil out from in front of its face, raising its head, “I was starting to think maybe you got lost and—“ It stopped mid-sentence, its eyes focused on Victor and its eyes hardened, if that was possible, before darting to look beside him. “Yuuri, who is this?”

“Yuuri?” Victor found himself glued to the floor, the heat of Yuuri’s body next to him the only comfort amidst the chaos.

“Okay.” Yuuri lifted his hands, moving away so he could stand between the two. As if he was a bridge that stood between the dead and the living. “I can explain.”

A glint caught Victor’s eye and his attention zoomed to the corpse’s right hand. To the ring finger.

The corpse noticed immediately, holding up its right hand. The light from the fire made the ring shine bright.

“I’m his husband, Phichit. And you are?”

Victor’s mouth dropped open, but words failed to escape. His eyes kept seeking out Yuuri’s own, but the other man’s refused to meet. With a mouth gaping like a fish, Victor closed it and took a shallow breath.

“Husband?”

“That’s right! Said his vows so perfectly in the woods!”

Everything was growing fuzzy, Victor’s breaths growing more and more harried.

At that moment, Yuuri finally spoke up. He reached up, only to push Phichit’s hand down so the ring no longer glinted off the firelight.

“You misunderstand—“ He shook Phichit’s hand, as if to prove a point. “He’s dead!”

The corpse let out a gasp, pulling back from Yuuri and closer to the window, his eyes narrowed.

“Salchow.”

Another gust of wind entered the room, forcing his hair to loosen from its braid, obscuring Victor’s sight. Makkachin’s barking filled in the silence. When the wind settled, he was alone.

To Victor’s horror, he lost Yuuri again.

* * *

“You lied to me!”

“I didn—“

“You said you wanted me to meet your parents! And your sister! Instead I find you in some guy’s room!”

Yuuri tossed his arms into the air, “That wasn’t some guy! That was my fiancé!”

“Some fiancé!” Phichit crossed his arms, “Not gonna lie, he’s pretty hot.” His nose scrunched up, a pout heavy on his lips, “You proposed to me, Yuuri! Can you believe this, Ciao Ciao? I married a playboy!”

Atop of series of books and other knickknacks, an older skeleton scratched his skull, “The world is a mysterious thing.”

“I—“ Yuuri kicked at a stray book by his foot, “I’m not a playboy! And, okay, look,” He hurriedly put the book back from where he kicked it from, “Phichit, you’re super nice, given other circumstances, I’m sure we would have been best friends. But I would never marry you.” He raised his head, expecting Phichit to agree with him. He was just Yuuri Katsuki. No one special.

But when he finally took in the other man, the breath in his lungs was kicked from him.

Phichit briskly whirled until he faced the other side of the room, to hide the tears that fell from his eyes.

Yuuri had no idea corpses could cry.

“I… I see.” Phichit remained turned away, instead heading over to the entrance of Celestino’s study. Without a word more, he left, leaving Yuuri to himself.

* * *

“You have to understand! Yuuri’s married to a corpse!” Victor’s voice rang out, falling onto deaf ears. “I saw him! They were right here!” He pointed to a spot by the window, as Makkachin hid underneath his bed, cowering as a flash of lightning lit up the room.

“Impossible!” Lilia stood tall, not once flinching as a clap of thunder followed suit. “I will not have strange fancies under my roof. You know better, Vitya.” She glided to the door, gripping the handle in her hand, “Until you have such wild notions out of your head, you are to stay in your room.”

The door slammed shut, the lock jingling to a close, trapping Victor inside.

His eyes surveyed the room, flittering about until he spotted a quilt that Makkachin used as bedding. His room was only on the second floor, and surely he had done worst when he was younger. He bundled up the quilt, giving Makkachin a shush as she whined under the bed.

“I’ll be right back, girl. I need to find Yuuri.”

The door to the balcony swung open without a fuss, and Victor wasted no time in tossing the quilt over the ledge, using it as a makeshift rope.

If his family wasn’t going to help him find Yuuri, then he’d find someone who would.

* * *

After Phichit left, it felt increasingly awkward to stand around in some skeleton’s study. Yuuri found himself wishing farewell to the one named Celestino, and tracing steps back until he reached the bar that he first came to. The usual hustle and bustle was at a low, and Yuuri found solace at the familiar territory.

“Well, well, well, look who decided to drop in.”

Yuuri started in surprise. He knew that voice, even though it had been years since he last heard it.

“Yuri Plisetsky of the Feltsman Estate!”

It was a popular tale, the young ward was adopted to the Feltsman Estate years following the adoption of Victor. They had high hopes, insuring he had the same upbringing, and made sure he would take Victor’s place in case anything were to happen. A Plan B, if you will.

Yuuri had met the youth just once. It was shortly after what was possibly the most important recital Yuuri had ever contributed to. It was the chance to finally have Victor take notice of him.

It was also after the death of Vicchan.

He bombed his performance, skipping notes and abruptly stopping in the middle of a song. He retreated to a nearby bathroom, hoping that due to the event still going on, no one would bother him.

Except Yuri Plisetsky had.

“Tch.” The blond crossed his arms, the cat on his shoulders flicked her bony tail. “I don’t go by that title anymore. I’m a free man, now!”

“Well you certainly look well.” Yuuri winced, “Er, for being dead and all.”

Yuri Plisetsky’s death took the town by surprise. He had been out on the nearby lake, ice skating of all things, when it happened. There was a piece of thin ice, not sectioned off as it should have been, and Yuri was found later that day, blue in face. Everyone was stricken in grief, but none more than his adoptive parents.

After the young ward’s untimely demise, the pressure on Victor’s shoulders only grew in size.

“It was the best thing to happen to me.” Yuri leaned against a barstool, his cat still perched on his shoulders, this time rubbing its skull against his cheek, “Upstairs was wicked boring. Here? It’s not such a drag.”

That was a compliment, coming from him.

Yuuri nodded, taking the spot next to the deceased youth. The tail of the cat tapped against his shoulder. Yuuri chose to ignore it.

“So,” Yuri had turned his head, his fingers dancing across the counter, “how’s everyone? Last I remember, Victor was super lame.”

“Oh uh…” Lowering his own gaze, Yuuri fiddled with his hands, “Fine? He’s… very handsome and… we were…” He bit his lip. “We were to be married.”

“No way.”

A depreciative laugh leaked out of him, “I totally flubbed my vows, it was a mess, and I ended up running away. There’s no way Victor would want me now.” Yuuri buried his face in his hands, “Not that it matters anymore, I guess. I up and married Phichit-kun without even realizing it.”

“You what???”

The cat on Yuri’s hissed, choosing that moment to hop off his shoulders and run off into a another section of the bar.

“What the hell, piggy?”

“I know, I know!” Yuuri dropped his hands, leaning his full weight on the counter, “I wish I could reset the day from the beginning. This is such a mess…”

“Yeah well, you better fix it! You can’t just play with people’s emotions!” Yuri kicked at nothing, folding his arms over his chest, “Stupid you… Stupid Victor…”

* * *

Yuuri found Phichit in another room inside the bar, tucked away from prying eyes if needed. The young deceased man sat at a piano, his fingers dancing along the keys but not putting any weight on them.

With any prompting, Yuuri took a seat beside Phichit, who refused to make eye contact.

“I’m sorry, Phichit-kun.”

A note rung out, as Phichit’s index finger put enough weight on the piano key. His hand jerked away, at the noise.

Pursing his lips together, Yuuri let his own hands settle on the keys, “I shouldn’t have lied to you. You’ve been so nice to me this whole time and—I’d really like us to be friends, if you’ll let me.”

“That other man…” Phichit’s voice was soft in the quiet, as if he didn’t quite want to be heard. “Who was he?”

Warmth filled Yuuri as he smiled, dipping his head to hide his expression, “Victor. We were supposed to get married, well, upstairs. I used to idolize him, when he competed in music competitions.” He let out a laugh, “My dog, Vicchan? I got him after I found out Victor had a poodle. I even named him after him.” His fingers twitched on the piano keys, and before Yuuri realized, he found himself playing the same song when he first met Victor.

His hands jolted, abruptly cutting off the music. The last note rung as Yuuri’s face burned.

Out of the corner of his eye, Phichit was facing him, a grin on his face. “You really love this guy.”

“Yes.”

“I used to feel that way…” Sighing, Phichit leaned back, using his arms to hold him from falling backwards off the bench, “I imagine he must be super old now.”

Yuuri opened his mouth, questions on the tip of his tongue when bells rang out in the building.

“New arrival!!!”

Phichit sprung to his feet, pulling Yuuri up along the way, “Oh, I wonder who it could be!”

They made their way to the main bar, skeletons and other corpses in various states of decay filled the room, making it a tad bit difficult to see who the newcomer was. Phichit and Yuuri broke past a group who looked like they were dressed for Halloween when they reached the center to find…

  
“…Minami-kun?”

“Yuuri-kun!!!” The younger man burst forward, stopping just short of touching as he bounced in place. “I’m so glad I found you! Everyone’s been worried sick!”

“I…” Yuuri floundered, hands flicking at his side, “How did you end up here?”

“That’s the thing,” Minami rubbed the back of his head, “I don’t quite know? I was at the Feltsman Estate, once I heard about Victor, and I tried to get answers and the next thing I knew,” he shrugged, “I was here.”

“Victor?” Yuuri straightened, halls balling into fists. “What about Victor?”

“He’s getting married.”

“Married?!” Blinking rapidly, Yuuri took in a shuddering breath, “But… How… To who?!”

“Some new guy? A lord? The town crier didn’t specify.”

It was getting harder to breathe, Yuuri’s eyesight darkening at the edges, he couldn’t seem to focus on anything, the ground was shaky under his feet.

“Yuuri?”

With a gasp that felt like glass in his lungs, Yuuri ran.

* * *

Everything was a blur.

Victor hadn’t even gotten two steps away from the mansion when the front doors swung open, revealing his parents and the strange lord who appeared earlier that day. A loud clap of lightning illuminated the shadows on their faces, while the rain soaked his hair, making the stray flyaways cling to his face.

Yakov was shaking his head as the lord pretended to look at his fingernails.

“What a terrible influence that Katsucky lad is on your ward.”

Victor’s chest tightened at the dismissive tone in the lord voice, before his skin grew cold at his father’s next words.

“Yes. We will continue on as planned then.” He snapped his fingers, their butler and servant coming out and taking Victor tightly by the arms. “Victor, tomorrow you will wed Lord Chadsworth.”

“What?” Victor’s voice was lost amongst the thunder as he was escorted back into the mansion.

For the next few hours, he was forbidden from mentioning his refusal to marry Lord Chadsworth, once Yakov and Lilia explained their destitute situation, or Yuuri. Only his hand-servant, Georgi, was allowed to assist him as he dressed for the wedding he dreaded.

The church was only half filled as the ceremony started, most of the village sitting on his side of the building, while the other side was completely barren.

As the older man slipped a gold ring over his finger, Victor realized with cold certainty, that this was all wrong.

And he missed Yuuri terribly.

* * *

Victor was married.

Yuuri sighed, feeling it deeply in his bones. “Of course he would, why would Victor want to be with me?” He shook his head, his bangs obscuring his view as he leaned forward. “I was silly to ever believe he would want me…”

“Yuuri?”

The sound of Phichit’s voice had Yuuri raise his head, to find the other man off to the side, rubbing his bony arm.

“…Hey Phichit-kun.”

The corpse took a seat beside him, crossing his legs as he got comfortable. He bumped Yuuri’s shoulder with his own.

“I’m sorry about Victor.”

Yuuri swallowed down the self-deprecating comment on his tongue, “It’s fine.”

Phichit took a deep breath, “Listen…” He waited until Yuuri nodded, “Ciao Ciao… came to the bar after you left.” He fidgeted with his hands, “There’s a… complication with our marriage.” He snuck a peek, finding Yuuri’s brow furrowed. Phichit gave a small, forced chuckle. “Seems like our vows were from death till us part? And I’m already dead so—“

He stopped as a hand rested on his own.

“So our wedding isn’t binding.”

Yuuri gave his hands a gentle pat. Phichit nodded.

“The only way to make it so again… You would have to sacrifice your life and die, in order to be with me.”

“Yeah,” Yuuri leaned back against the coffin behind him, “That sounds about right.”

“You—“ Phichit twisted at the waist, eyes firm, “I won’t force you, Yuuri. If you want to go back, I’ll try and help you.”

Yuuri reached out, placing his hand upon Phichit’s face, “You’re not forcing me to do anything.” He gave a small smile. “Let’s do it. And this time, we’re going to do it right.”

* * *

The dinner following Victor’s wedding ceremony to Lord Chadwick Chaddington Chadsworth was beyond dreary. His entire body was numb to the core, the food in front of him tasted of ash, and as Lord Chadsworth made a speech to his left, Victor heard none of it.

So it was a surprise when suddenly the lights in the room went out, and skeletons appeared from the shadows. Within seconds, the dining room dissolved into chaos, his family and friends of the family trying in vain to get away from the dead. Victor merely sat, frozen in place until he found himself alone.

Well, not completely alone.

Lord Chadsworth crawled out from beneath the table, hair in disarray as he paced.

“We’re grabbing whatever money we can and then getting the hell out of here!”

Victor blinked, one word in particular breaking through his haze.

“Money? What money?”

“Don’t play coy!” Chadsworth gripped Victor by the arm, “Your fortune belongs to me now! And I will have it!”

Victor pulled his arm out of Chadsworth’s grasp, standing to his feet and putting as much distance between them as possible. “Sorry to disappoint, but my family is broke. There is no fortune.”

“No fort—You’re lying!”

“Ha!” The laugh was bitter on Victor’s lips, “I wish I was. I hope you enjoy the poorhouse.” Without waiting for a response, he turned on his heel, exiting the house.

Despite his bravado inside, Victor stopped short as he saw everyone, dead and alive, heading towards the church. There was a few stragglers, one catching his eye.

“Mr. Lee!”

Seung-gil Lee limped along the pathway, his cane shaking when not supporting his weight. The older man stopped at the sound of his name, peering up at Victor with his good eye.

“Young Mr. Nikiforov.” He inclined his head, “Or should I say Mr. Nikiforov-Chadsworth.”

Victor’s jaw clenched, but it was all the answer the older man needed.

“I see.”

Seung-gil gestured to the crowd entering the church.

“Shall we see what’s going on?”

* * *

Having a wedding with the dead in the land of the living was probably not the brightest idea in the box.

However, as Yuuri stood in the church next to Phichit, with the combination of his townsfolk and the people he met down below sitting in the pews behind them, he wouldn’t change his decision if given the chance.

Celestino stood before them, his tome perched on the podium as he read from it. Right beside the large book, was a decanter filled with poisoned wine.

The older skeleton waited until the last of the stragglers entered and taken their seats before addressing the couple in front of him.

He nodded at Yuuri first.

Taking a deep breath, Yuuri held up his hand, “With this hand, I will lift your sorrows,” his raised hand lowered, only to grasp an empty brass champagne flute, “your cup will never empty, for I will be your wine.”

A smile rested on Phichit’s face, “With this hand,” he repeated, “I will lift your sorrows.” He took the decanter, holding it up and pouring the poison into the champagne flute, “Your cup will never empty, for I will be—“ His eyes drifted, catching something behind Yuuri, forcing him to quickly put the decanter back on the table.

The lights in the church reflected in Yuuri’s eyes, making them shine brighter.

“I will be your wine.” Yuuri completed the vow, lifting the cup until it was just to his lips. His mouth opened, ready to partake of the poison.

“No!” Phichit covered the top, stopping Yuuri before he could drink from it.

A collective gasp filled the church.

“Phichit-kun?”

“This is wrong.” Phichit placed the cup next to the decanter, “I love you, Yuuri, I do. But we were never meant to be.” He gestured behind Yuuri, revealing Victor in a pristine white tux, using the nearby pillar to hide himself.

“Victor…”

Keeping his eyes lowered, Victor pushed away from the pillar, coming to a stop once he reached the pair.

Phichit took their hands, bringing them together. Once satisfied they were holding hands did he take his away.

“Yes, this is right.”

Victor raised his head, taking in Yuuri in his dark suit, the bright blue tie ruining the ensemble but he wouldn’t change it in any way.

“How touching.”

The doors to the church slammed shut, as Lord Chadwick Chaddington Chadsworth stalked up the aisle.

Victor gasped, his hand flying to Yuuri’s arm and holding on tight.

“The young lovers, reunited at last.” The sneer on Chadsworth’s face could have cut butter, “If only for one teeny tiny detail.” He stopped as he reached the trio, hand shooting out and taking Victor by the arm. “Vincent and I are still married!” He pulled, forcing Victor’s grip on Yuuri to break. Victor lurched forward, stopping just at Chadsworth’s side. “I will not leave here empty-handed!”

Phichit’s eyes widened, “You!”

Chadsworth took in the corpse groom before him, his eyes sharpening in recognition.

“Young Mr. Chulanont.” The words dripped off his tongue with contempt. “I thought you ran off, once you realized your caller wasn’t coming.” A dark chuckle rose from his chest, “And to think, this whole time you’ve been dead.”

“You—!” Phichit’s fists shook, “You did something, didn’t you! What did you do to him?!”

Chadsworth slowly crept along the aisle, his grip on Victor tight, “Sorry to cut things short, but we really must be going.”

“No!”

Yuuri’s voice echoed through the church. Chadsworth stopped.

“Let go of Victor. Now.”

With a scoff, Chadsworth reached out, taking a sword from a nearby skeleton, “Back off, boy. Go back to your corpse.” He lifted the sword until it was placed directly under Victor’s chin. Victor’s eyes were wide, seeking out Yuuri’s own.

Yuuri strode forward, back straight, eyes sure, “Take your hands off him.”

“Or what?”

Whatever Yuuri planned to say was cut off as Makkachin appeared, giving Chadworth’s leg a good firm bite that had him releasing his grip on Victor and the sword.

Victor rushed forward, his arms wrapping around Yuuri’s shoulders as Yuuri’s own went around his waist, holding him tight as they ran towards Phichit. The corpse stood in front of them, acting as a shield as Chadsworth finally drew his attention away from his bleeding leg back to them.

His eyes burned with fury.

Phichit stood his ground, holding himself up as much as he could, “Leave Chad, and don’t come back.”

Chadsworth strolled forward, his posture only dampened by the slight limp in his leg. “Oh, I will. Believe me of that.” He came to the table, plucking up the cup from earlier. The wine in it swished at the sudden movement. He raised the brass cup, letting it glisten by the lights before taking a large gulp of the wine. He smacked his lips, a grin on his face as he threw the cup to the floor. He sashayed to the doors, when he suddenly stopped, heaving forward. He gasped, turning around, his skin now a ghastly blue pigment.

“Oh,” Celestino quipped, “He’s one of us now.”

All the dead reacted as one, weaving through the living until they reached Chadsworth, taking him by the arm and disappearing out of the church.

Celestino corked the decanter, closing up his tome, “Well, that’s that then.”

Victor rested his head on top of Yuuri’s, reveling in the feel of the other man.

“Yuuri, I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me too,” Yuuri pushed away, holding Victor at arms’ length, “Victor.”

“Yes?”

“I know I’m not much,” Victor opened his mouth but Yuuri only shook his head, plowing on, “But I promise, I will be the man who is worthy enough to marry you.” His eyes shone brightly, even more so that before, “If you’ll have me.”

Tears pooled at the edge of Victor’s eyes, until they cascaded down his cheeks.

“Yes! Of course I will!”

As if like magnets, their bodies clung together.

Everything was perfect and right.

Off to the side, Phichit watched on, a smile on his face. The rest of the townspeople, once they realized all the action was gone, had started to disperse. Phichit let out a sigh, his face turned to the sky.

“Phichit?”

The tap of a cane hitting stone was the only other warning he got, as Phichit turned to find Seung-gil Lee, with his eyepatch and bad leg, standing before him.

“Seung-gil?” Phichit raised a shaky hand to the other man’s cheek, “It’s really you, right? This isn’t a trick?”

A knobbly old hand covered his own, “The only tricks are—“

“—ones fools fall for.” Phichit finished the phrase, his lower lip wobbling as he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Seung-gil. “You never came! Didn’t send a word and I waited! For hours!”

Seung-gil gingerly let his weight settle against Phichit’s. “I tried. The carriage was packed. When I went to get inside…” His hands shook. “Someone attacked me. Beat up my leg. My eye. I was hospitalized for weeks.” He let out a sigh, “You weren’t there. I got home and no one had seen you. Chadsworth had vanished. I thought—“

Phichit ran a hand through Seung-gil’s hair, “Never, I would never with that man. I love you.”

“You would marry an old man like me?”

Chuckling, Phichit moved back enough to place a soft kiss on the other man’s nose, “Mr. Seung-gil Lee, I would be honored.”

**Author's Note:**

> Directly after the end, Seung-gil agrees to drink the poison, thus joining Phichit in the Land of the Dead.


End file.
